SCENE 2. — Morning twilight. A little wayside tavern at a cross-road .

Enter FITZGIBBON, reconnoitring .

Fitzgibbon . They must be pretty near by this time,
If they are come at all.

Not yet, my friends.

Enter a woman, the tavern-keeper.

Woman . Ye Yankee rogue! ye coward!

Fitzgibbon . Take that! and that!

Now, give me up your arms.

Enter FITZGIBBON'S command .

Here, Sergeant, march them in and set a guard.

Fitsgibbon . They're come! Quick — march, my lads.